13-Year-Old Boy in Georgia Commits Suicide After Being Bullied

I stayed up late in order to work on a job-related issue that has been a PITA for me lately.  Tired, I was just about ready to go to bed, but I came across the title of this article:

http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/04/05/17616979-georgia-middle-schooler-commits-suicide-after-bullying-being-called-snitch-dad-says?lite

I had to read it, so I did.  It moved me.  After I finished reading it, I thought that maybe I should be crying.  I did feel a little heat in my eyes, but no tears came out.  Then I realized I was too angry to cry.  I don't know the boy, but I picture him as a kid with a pure heart.  One sentence in this article stands out to me, a statement made by his father: "'He came home one time and had some peanut butter pies he had made for school. When he walked through the door he had some pie left, and he had it all over him. Someone had jumped on him and smeared it all over him.'" 

Why did it stand out to me?  Because I was this kid.  It's painful to admit this, but I was bullied in grade school and high school.  I was smaller and quieter than the other kids.  I was called names; spit balls landed on my desk; I ran as fast as I could to reserve the shady table at lunch (this was LA in the spring) for me and my friends (we were all labeled as "nerds", but we didn't care), but it wouldn't matter cuz the "jocks" would follow and edge us out, forcing us to again eat at a table under the sun.  And yet, I would bring candy or buy the most highly-coveted item on my high school cafeteria's menu, chili cheese fries, hoping that the other, more popular kids would be drawn to me and like me.  But it lasted only a moment.  They would get what they wanted and flit back to their groups.  Devin, I'll bet that's the reason you brought the peanut butter pies to school. You wanted to go to culinary school, and you wanted to be liked. So you baked the pies in hopes that the other kids would recognize your talent AND pay attention to you. Instead, they smeared your hard work all over you because YOU DID THE RIGHT THING. A teacher is alive today cuz of you, but you're not alive, and it's so unfair. 

I was happy to leave high school.  I have my days, and I hate to sound cliche-ish, but IT GOT BETTER.  I'm 34 years old, and I believe it'll get even better.  I have exciting things in the works for me.  I can feel it!  God help those who felt it all go downhill at 30!  Life didn't end in high school or even in college or even in graduate school.  Not for me.  Every birthday is a reason to celebrate, even if it's with just a movie at home, even if it's alone.  BTW, Happy Birthday, Dad!  April 5 was Dad's 74th birthday, the 3rd birthday he's had since his stroke.  Every birthday is a blessing cuz we could've lost you 3 birthdays ago, but God decided you needed more time with us.  I promise to try to not forget this.

Please, God, have mercy on Devin.  Please take him straight to Heaven to be with the angels.  Please let his suicide be a lesson to kids everywhere (and grown kids like me) to never underestimate your self-worth.  The problem is your bullies, NOT YOU.  One day, you'll look back on your bullied days and will smile at how far you've come.  Someday, you'll see your bullies get smaller and smaller in your rearview mirror.  Then they'll disappear, and you'll be driving on your road to success.  It gets better.

OK, now I'm getting more tears into my eyes.  I'll say a prayer for Devin when I lie down in a few minutes.  It won't be the last time.

In Consideration of Others...

Some of you may already know this, but for those of you that don't, I'll let you know a little bit about my family. My family is very important to me, and I'm very close to them. I'm fortunate enough to have a great relationship with my parents, and as much as they've supported me throughout the years, I think the least I can do is help them out once in a while. My dad had a stroke 3 years ago, which left him unable to do all the things he used to do. He is in his 70s and now walks with a cane or walker, and he can no longer drive. It's very hard for him to leave the house, so whenever he does, it's a huge production. It didn't matter that I was very tired from a busy weekend out of town and went straight into a hectic work week. My dad told me he needed me to pick him up after work today to take him on some errands. No problem. Well, at about 5:15 pm today, we pulled into the parking lot of his local Bank of America. No surprise that there was a long line for the ATMs. It's Friday afternoon, so all those people are like how I used to be, hankering for some cash to spend over the weekend. However, I was annoyed. Why? Those people were standing in the handicapped parking space! I tried to do the polite thing, not honking but looking some of them in the eye and waving to the side, hoping they'd get the message. Either they didn't, or they didn't care. I gave up and parked the car to the side. I told my dad to wait while I went inside to tell the first employee I saw that my dad is disabled, has a hard time walking, and needs the handicapped parking space, but there were people in it. Thank God the BofA employee decided to be helpful. He immediately went outside and politely asked the customers to move out of the way. When I finally parked and helped my dad inside, with him holding onto my arm with his left hand and with the cane in his right, a lady at the front of the line gasped and immediately apologized profusely. I just nodded my head and told her it was OK. The employee who helped us out held the door and told my dad to go straight to the short merchant teller line (for those of you who would like to argue that it's just for business owners, it also happens to be that my dad co-owns a business with a checking account at BofA). If no one had bothered to help, I'd be tempted to instruct my dad to take all his money out of there. But I'm grateful someone did.

It didn't used to be that I cared so much. This being LA, I likely have gone into parking lots to find all spaces taken, except for that one right by the front door. In order to make it more convenient, I probably did pull into the handicapped space and told my friend or family member in the car to wait "while I did this real quick" and "If you see a cop, just move the car". However, most of the time, the cop doesn't come, and most people never move the car, even if they see an elderly person in a wheelchair with the blue placard who has the legal right to be there. I can't tell you how many times I have seen this happen. My dad, who really does have a hard time walking, really does need the space. And unless they're about to be ticketed, people don't care. It's not an even playing field. Please have consideration of others. If even one person stops to think about this for a moment, it can make a difference. I just think about that lady at the bank who apologized to me. Just her words, her being considerate made me less angry, which helped me to be less stressed and a better caregiver to my dad.

12/11/10: A Memorable Date...

...for various reasons.

1) The date itself. How often do 3 consecutive numbers appear in accurate reverse order? Of course, I realize that if I lived in Europe, the date would be 11/12/10. This historical date would have occurred on November 12, 2010, last month. Well, come to think of it, I was in Europe on November 12, 2010 (in Spain, traveling from Zaragoza to Madrid). So I'm celebrating this special date for the 2nd time!

2) On this date last year, I was in the hospital. My father had an operation that had the potential to save his life. One year later, he's still alive, feisty as always. My mother had an operation, too, 3 days after my father did. My sisters and I were literally in the hospital with both our parents checked in (Mom was getting her operation, a lumpectomy, and Dad was recovering from his). Seriously, that was a pretty scary time. Dad's alive today, so the operation likely worked. And Mom is free of cancer. Whew!

3) Back to #1...here are the pictures from my dream trip. Finally! From top to bottom, here are the descriptions: the Tower of Belem (Lisbon, Portugal); the Christian Louboutin boutique (Madrid, Spain); the square in front of the Basilica (Fatima, Portugal); a sign on a bus (Zaragoza, Spain), which roughly translates to "Eat rabbit meat. It's safe."; a sign near the border between Spain and Portugal; a bull-fighting arena (Lisbon, Portugal); a castle once owned by a Duke, now a museum (Lourdes, France); a cork tree (Fatima, Portugal)-Portugal is the leading exporter of cork in the world, a material found in some Christian Louboutin collections-LOL; my souvenir, nude Bianca pumps, purchased from the Christian Louboutin boutique in Madrid

Labor Day Weekend 2010

Yay! 3-day weekend...just too bad that it's over. But then again, that means it's only a 4-day work week! For my international readers, today was Labor Day in the US, which is a federal holiday and a holiday for almost everyone in the private sector. For us Americans, it symbolizes the end of the summer season (although I know that, according to the Roman calendar, it's not actually until late September). For those still in school or those who work in the educational sector, this means going back to work. People tend to put vacations off from now until June-ish next year (after Memorial Day, the unofficial start of the summer season). However, for those of us no longer in school, not working in the educational sector, and childless (me included in this category), it simply means a slightly longer commute to work. Sigh...that 15 minutes of extra sleep was awful nice.

Oh, well...here we go with another weekend update. I did get to spend it with some fine male company, but don't get too excited. The males in question are ages 1 and 3. I'm talking about my little nephews, adorable as can be. My lovely sister, age 39, finally found the man of her dreams and is going to marry him this winter. She decided that she wanted our family to be introduced to his this weekend, so my entire immediate family joined in the festivities.

My family and I also had a celebrity sighting. We met Legacy Perez, a contestant from the TV show, So You Think You Can Dance? Now I've met several celebrities in my life, and sadly, only some of them are nice. Legacy is one of them...and then some. Not only was he nice, he seemed genuinely flattered we recognized and spoke to him. He asked where my mom was from, and when she said that she was from the Philippines, he spoke a little Tagalog to her and appeared to be flattered that she was thrilled. We also met his family, who were also very nice. He also took a pic with us, then his family and my sister's family took one together. I wish Legacy the best in his career. He's a truly talented dancer and a nice guy, and he deserves lasting success.